Brand New
by Silver and Gray
Summary: Prussia waits in a hospital, refusing to admit he's a nervous wreck.


To see Prussia, the great country that had won many wars, nervous, was a feat considered impossible. A situation wasn't considered difficult until the tall, pale skinned man was seen shifting his eyes and moving about apprehensively.

But of all things, he had never expected to be nervous in a situation like this. He thought maybe that it would be him with his men cornered by thousands of troops from a rival nation, numerically outnumbering his army. But even then, he would proudly charge and fight for glory to his death. But this was different. He moved in the plastic chair he was sitting in, hating the way it creaked with every movement he made, but it was either that or pace the room, which he hated to do since it reminded him of his little brother, who he was convinced ought to lighten up a little.

A nurse's footfalls made him glance up, wondering once again if they were coming for him. It was late, almost eleven, and he had been waiting nearly three hours. From the room being full of visitors and family members, it was now only he and a few others that were still waiting. Out of sheer boredom, he had tallied percentages in his mind every single time the doctors came out and called someone else in, something he was good at for his many years of service in leading the army. _Twenty-five percent chance they'll call me in, 27 percent chance they'll call me in…_

A woman stopped at the doorway, holding it open with her back. She had a clipboard in her hands, and her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked young. And beautiful. He wondered if he'd have any chance to put on his charm for her.

"Is Gilbert Beilschmidt here?" She asked, not quite getting the pronunciation right. But that was fine, he figured maybe if they got the chance, he could teach her how to pronounce it, and maybe a few other things.

Gilbert stood up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. He forced himself to stay calm, raising his hand in a casual manner. "That's me."

The nurse sized him up, but smiled kindly. Gilbert had to admit he liked this ward. The whole place was brightly colored and everyone here either looked excited, happy, or exhausted, but in a kind of relieved way. Too many times to count he had seen the inside of the emergency ward, and it was always depressing.

"You can come back now." The nurse said in a whisper, since people were looking at them curiously. She probably figured it was because they were eavesdropping, but Gilbert knew it was because it wasn't everyday that they saw someone in their twenties with white hair and red eyes. Gilbert felt a rush of affection for her, since her first assumption was anything but about his looks. He could definitely imagine the two of them having a picnic together and in no way would it be considered pathetic or girly.

But even then, his heart sped up and he felt pure terror, and yet excitement. He wondered if she could tell from the look on his face, because she came forward and patted his forearm in a very caring manner, as if she were used to people standing absolutely still, full of uncertainty.  
>Walking pass the doors of the waiting room, Gilbert followed the nurse down the hallway, glancing at the rooms as they walked pass. Most were closed, considering the time, and he felt a tinge of tiredness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good night's rest.<p>

"Are you friends with Mister and Misses Edelstein?" The nurse asked conversationally.

"Yes, well, yeah." Gilbert said quickly, deciding not to mention the fact he wasn't really friends with either. A small smile crept on his face as he remembered the sound of Roderich's voice over the phone as he begrudgingly told him that Elizaveta wanted him to come to the hospital. Even if his fighting days were over, it still gave him satisfaction every time he heard distaste in the voice of his once enemy. It surprised him that it had only been four hours ago that the phone had rung. It seemed so much longer, as he sat in the waiting room to hear word.

Rounding a corner, the nurse stopped in front of a door that had the nameplate next to it labeled, "Elizaveta Herdevey-Edelstein." Even in marriage, she had insisted on keeping her own last name.

The nurse opened the door and looked in. Gilbert could just see two people pass her.

"Mrs. Edelstein? Gilbert Beilschmidt is here."

"Oh, you can let him in." A tired, yet cheerful voice answered her.

The nurse moved out of the way, and Gilbert saw Elizaveta lying on the hospital bed. Roderich sat in a chair by the bed, not quite scowling at Gilbert. In fact, he seemed to be at ease, with a softer expression on his face. Gilbert felt disappointed that his presence wasn't causing a scene. But even then, his attention became diverted as he looked toward the small bundle in Elizaveta's arms.

"Would you like anything else to eat Elizaveta?" The nurse asked as she picked up a plastic cup and refilled it with water from the nearby sink.

"No thank you, Cindy." Elizaveta said affectionately. Gilbert figured that after being stuck in the hospital for nearly three days, most patients would be on a first name basis with their nurses.

"Come on, you should be at least a little hungry. How about you have some gelatin?" The nurse persisted.  
>"Alright, I'll have some. Orange, please." Elizaveta smiled as the nurse left the room.<p>

Gilbert stayed at the doorway as Roderich and Elizaveta spoke to each other in low tones, both fondly looking at the bundle she was holding. Gilbert was never one to like being ignored, and he coughed slightly to get their attention. Elizaveta looked up while Roderich did not.

"Roderich, would you mind if I spoke to Gilbert for a moment, alone? You should probably get some rest anyway." Elizaveta said.

"I think you're the one that deserves it more than I." Roderich said kindly. Usually the level of polite mannerisms the Austrian used would have made Gilbert scoff in disgust, but right then, he didn't feel into it. Even Roderich wasn't his usual aristocrat self. As he stood up to leave, though he didn't smile at Gilbert in the doorway, he did however, nod in acknowledgement, which was as close to a happy greeting two enemies could give.

"Are you just going to stand in the doorway all day like some loser?" Elizaveta's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he turned toward her.

"No, I was just wondering when it would be safe for me to enter." Gilbert said jokingly, though he was partially being serious. He had always feared her wrath, something he was too proud to admit. As he walked close to her, he saw that Roderich had been right about what he'd said. She definitely looked like she needed the rest more than him or Gilbert put together. Her hair was still damp with sweat, and dark bags were under her eyes. Yet she still looked beautiful.

"Maybe I should have let Roderich stay in the room just to make things uncomfortable for the both of you."

"Ouch, don't even get me started on how bad that would be for my ego to be stuck in the same room with your husband." Gilbert scoffed.

"Oh, it would be horrible." Elizaveta agreed, humoring him. Her expression turned softer as she looked down at her arms, and Gilbert followed her gaze. The bundle of cloth moved slightly to reveal a small, pink pudgy face. Its eyes were closed tightly, as if it knew it was safe, held firmly against its mother's breast.

"Why are you standing there so quiet?" Elizaveta asked, making him tear his eyes away from the newborn.

"What, can't even I be allowed to be quiet?" Gilbert asked. He sat down in the chair, his eyes never leaving the baby. "Does he have a name?"

"_She._ And no, not yet." Elizaveta replied. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to name her. I know that whatever I think of, Roderich would never like it. He wants to name her after some famous composer or something."

"Or something?" Gilbert asked, raising his eyebrow in question.

"I never really have listened to his lectures about composers." Elizaveta sighed. "It is a bit boring, really. Maybe I should start suggesting generic names. Like Mary Jean."

Gilbert looked at her amused. "Now that I think about it, where's the dinner with the wine?"

"I told them I wanted to have it tomorrow. The thought of food right now makes me want to puke."

"Spoken like a true lady." Gilbert teased. They both smiled at each other, then Elizaveta looked back down. There was silence in the room aside from the steady beep of the heart reader.

"You know, it was a bit weird. I thought maybe it was all some silly thing people said to make birth more appealing, saying that once you saw the baby, you instantly forget the pain. After being in labor for twenty-eight hours, I thought that maybe it was a lie. But," She smiled lovingly, cradling the baby closer. "They were right. It sounds so ridiculous, I _know_, but I just can't help but be amazed at how much I already…love her."

Gilbert didn't say anything, only listening to everything she had said. Elizaveta looked up at him. "Do you want to hold her?"

Gilbert looked up in surprise, his face seeming to pale. "What?"

"Hold her. The baby." Elizaveta said more specifically.

"I…" Gilbert looked around unhelpfully, trying to think of something cooler to say than what he was thinking.

"What? Are you afraid?" Elizaveta asked, though she said it softly, in no way accusing him.

"No! I…" Gilbert flushed, at a loss for words. He was afraid, but he was too proud to admit it. All his life he had held a weapon in one hand, and his other would be used to sign away the papers of annexations, death penalties, treaties, and government documents. To hold something so small, so fragile…

"Gilbert, it's okay. Come on, sit down on the bed so you're closer."

Gilbert silently did as he was told, feeling his hands shake slightly as she handed him the baby, barely bigger than a loaf of bread. He did as she directed him to, instructing him to place a hand underneath the body to help support the back. Time seemed to slow as he stared into the face of the tiny body he was holding. It was different from looking into the everyday faces of the people on the streets, or in battles, or even of the loved ones. It was brand new, something introduced into the world as something pure. Gilbert instantly felt his anxiety dissipate into calm serenity. A kind of warmth enveloped his body, something he would have been ashamed to admit, but he missed the feeling. It was unconditional, and odd, how he suddenly felt protective of the baby.

"That's crazy." Elizaveta murmured, "She started crying as soon as I gave her to Roderich." She looked at him when he didn't answer, his eyes still fixed on the baby. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm wondering what Ludwig was like when he was this young." Gilbert said. Both he and Elizaveta knew, and only a few others, that Gilbert had found Ludwig when he was about three or four, abandoned on the side of a road, his life slowly waning away. His actual age and birthday was unknown to all, and Gilbert had quickly saved him by creating Germany while he was in the Palace of Versailles. To everyone else, it was to be assumed that Ludwig had been born on that day.

"I bet he was quiet." Elizaveta commented, wondering also. It did explain Gilbert's timid behavior around infants. Any kid older than two years she had seem him handle quite well, but since he had never taken care of someone so new to the world, it was to him, different, scary. A toddler could fall down and stand up, but an infant couldn't. She looked at him closely, taking in his expression of wonder, to how his calloused, scarred hands held the baby so delicately. The scene made her smile.

"I wonder whose looks she got." Gilbert asked.

"Well, her eyes are green like mine. Her hair is brown too. But," she leaned toward Gilbert and without giving a second thought, gently placed a finger onto his nose. "She has you nose."

Gilbert looked up at the doorway, but Elizaveta could see a small smile forming on his lips. "Isn't it too soon to tell for something like that?"

Elizaveta shrugged, not bothering to lean away now that they were so close. "I don't think so. I just know."

Gilbert looked back down. "She's beautiful."

"She is." Elizaveta agreed.

They were silent for a few more moments, neither bothering to mention that they were close enough that their forearms brushed, or that Elizaveta's chin was just inches away from resting on Gilbert's shoulder. Finally, he handed her the baby back, saying that he had to get home soon. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back, clearing his throat.

"I think Petrushka is a good name." He said quietly, the moon outside the hospital window illuminating his features.

Elizaveta looked up, her eyes widening. Petrushka was her late mother's name, someone who had not only raised her, but had treated Gilbert, who was then an orphan, as if he were her own son.

"It is a bit old-fashioned, so maybe it would do better as a middle name though…" Gilbert pondered.

Elizaveta looked down at the baby, smiling. She wondered if this was what her mother had felt as she had held her, the day she was born. "I think it's perfect." She whispered.

Gilbert allowed himself a genuine smile before walking out the door.


End file.
